level_main_11-05_beg

What are you doing here?

I said as much, I'm here to enjoy the performance.

...Stay behind me, children.

I mean no offense, Lt. Colonel Lettou, but you're not welcome here.

No need to be so distant, Golding.

I've always approved of your efforts. The more difficult the times, the more important education becomes.

You're speaking as though you have nothing to do with these 'difficult times.'

You're always finely dressed, aren't you? No matter what the times.

The only difference is you have more and more medals on your collar now.

Helping the Military Commission govern Londinium is not an easy job. I've encountered my share of... difficulties.

But my love for this city has never changed. I'm just like you, in that regard.

I'm sure Tom the cobbler agrees.

Tom is a friend too. The memory of that incident pains me.

He got drunk and babbled something about 'His Majesty' and the 'Steam Knights.' He could hardy even spell 'Sarkaz.'

He's still alive.

Life is about more than simply being alive.

Are you accusing me of betraying Victoria, Golding?

I respect your courage, ladies.

But you're mistaken.

I came here to take another look at this school. Nothing more.

It's unfortunate that you seem to have forgotten me, Miss Molly.

Forgotten...?

I've spent just as much time here as you have. I even remember the children who came with you.

Unfortunately, I was no longer so free, after my graduation from the military academy.

Golding, you trusted me once. We discussed the history of Gaul, the eternal pillars of literature—

That will do, Lt. Colonel Lettou.

I'm grateful to your father for sponsoring the school over the years. He made efforts to light the torch of wisdom, to drive out ignorance and chaos.

I once thought you like him. But you've extinguished the tiny spark with your own two hands.

Is that so, Golding? Why do you think the school has survived this long?

Why, you—don't even dare threaten us!

I have no reason to threaten you. Certainly not with the children around.

We're all remnants of Gaul, Ms. Golding.

We know the merciless devastation of war, the snuffing of countless lives, and the destruction of human progress towards wisdom.

I don't want Londinium to be the next Lingones, nor do I want to see the wonderful play that I just witnessed disappear forever.

This is the burden that I have chosen to bear.

...I cannot endorse your views.

The Royal Opera House of Lingones has long since been reduced to ash, but 'Ode au Triomphe' continues to be performed around the world.

Buildings fall and metal giants rust, but what we created within never dies. It's our knowledge, our culture, our hope.

The darker the clouds of war, the more important it is that we hold onto our beliefs. Trust in beauty, and remind ourselves what separates us from the animals.

You believe you can win a conflict like this?

What you represent: fear, power, violence... these things can't keep everyone suppressed forever.

I must believe.

I can only believe.

As long as there is light, we'll follow it.

I envy you then, Ms. Golding.

Look up at the dark clouds above you. A storm is coming.

There is still time before the thunderbolt falls. We have a choice.

I hope to see the conclusion of the play... someday.

The Commander of the Defense Forces does not linger on the streets after leaving the school.

He came alone. There are none of his men in the vicinity.

She must find Adams and get the news out.

No matter how amicable the commander looked, there must be a reason why he came to the school.

Molly does not know, and neither do the children, but Golding does.

Why are there so many Sarkaz?

The path to the bookstore is a familiar one. She has tread it countless times in the past two years.

But today, the path seems much longer than she remembers. She cannot see the end of it. She remembers the day that the Sarkaz came.

Can she truly change?

I must believe. I must...

Fear seizes Golding by the throat.

She feels as though she is about to throw up. She turns and flees.

Lance! Patty!

The kids...! Nan—

Nngh—!

You need not have bothered yourself with a task as simple as this, sir.

Then you should have arrested Ms. Golding, Lettou.

It's what Manfred would have done. Old Red-Eye wouldn't have left a soul in the school alive.

We know you're not Sarkaz. You want to save one final shred of dignity for yourself, for the Defense Forces, for the people of the city.

But we believe this is safer.

Why you...

Lance, Patty... I hope the children are safe.

I'm scared, Lt. Colonel. Scared that people like you and the Sarkaz may hurt the children. Scared that the children could grow up to be like you.

You sound just like our unconscious guest here.

Yes... we're feeling.

She cares about those young Victorians more than she cares about herself. We can feel it, but we find it difficult to understand, especially since it does not arise from ties of blood.

...Sir?

We find you interesting. Through you, we understand ourselves... understand the Sarkaz better.

You want answers? About what?

You did not seem the kind of person to be curious about the Sarkaz, Lettou.

My apologies, sir.

The mission always comes first.

Take Miss Molly back, Lt. Colonel. Watch her closely. We will stay by Ms. Golding's side, and gather intelligence for the coming war.

Yes, sir.

What's the matter, sir?

Someone has discovered us.

Should I call the men?

No need. They can't stop him.

He has learned much from Theresa. We will have an... interesting conversation.

...Molly.

Hm?

Did anything happen while I was away?

No. Lance and Patty were scared. Ralph and the older kids took the little ones to get some rest.

Good. I've been thinking... the children will enjoy the play, won't they?

Our hard work will mean something?

What are you talking about?

No... nothing.

Don't mind the Commander of the Defense Forces, Ms. Golding.

I... I'm not feeling well. I need some rest.

Sorry, Molly. Could you clean up?

Sure.

There should be an end to the play. The Steam Knights arrived at the palace.

The children will perform the final scene in a few days, won't they?

...Absolutely.

There sure are lots of possibilities, so long as the conclusion of the story hasn't yet been told.

But even a play that's been performed can be changed. People always look for the latest.

You've been watching for a long time, haven't you?

The stage is right here. Why don't we start from the beginning, from act one?

Everyone dreams about how things would have been, if none of this had happened.

'What ifs' mean nothing.

But if there is even a remote possibility...

Why don't you join us on stage, sir?

Good morning, sir! There is a look of concern on your face. Is something worrying you?

The horn of victory has blown atop the walls for three days and nights, but why do I feel uneasy?

Has our great general not returned triumphant? Praise his bravery and fearlessness!

Bravery? Fearlessness? Perhaps.

A call to arms united our spirit, but the price was ruin and hate.

You should have served a king, but you gave your loyalty to a thief.

The mysterious spectator takes a step forward, his gaze moving from his counterpart to the distance.

He is not building up tension, but recalling memories of another battlefield, memories that have lain dormant for too long.

It is not a king that I serve, but honesty and courage.

Destruction awaits, if you stay on this path.

The destruction of the individual is nothing, compared to having to watch a tyrant bring this country to ruin.

How do you know her end, sir?

I can predict her end, as I know her beginning.

How could you reminiscence about the past, young as you are?

Who can keep the sun from setting? Such desires are the greatest greed.

I have seen countless acts of madness performed in the name of preserving this glory. They turn to banditry, or fight amongst themselves, ultimately accelerating the decay of this country.

'Molly' turns around onstage, takes a few steps, then turns back, hiding her face in the shadows.

But her counterpart speaks first. His expression is calm, like water undisturbed. He shifts his hands, then crosses them.

They will not admit that those who fall try to cling to the sunlight, but grasp only lightning.

Must they accept their fall?

They can choose to not look back at the peak.

If they would turn their gaze around, they would realize that it is no abyss lying before them, but fertile earth in which infinite possibilities lie.

You say the abyss can be conquered? You do not know the truth of the abyss, nor do you understand that time is short.

The abyss lies before us. We can fill it with flesh, and burn the remnants with blood, leaving behind wide open fields for those who come after.

Only when the ashes of old are blown away can a new crop grow on the field, to feed the next generation.